


Would You Mind?

by kayelem



Series: The Rebel Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:36:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayelem/pseuds/kayelem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Inquisitor asks Cullen for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would You Mind?

**Author's Note:**

> A small drabble featuring my rogue archer Beau Trevelyan and Cullen. 
> 
> This and other one-shots about Beau are also posted on my tumblr.

**Would You Mind?**

“Okay, you can look now!”

Cullen stopped in the doorway of the Inquisitor’s quarters when he heard Josephine’s voice. She was still up here? He knew that the Inquisitor’s dress for the ball at Halamshiral had arrived earlier in the day, but he hadn’t thought it would have taken  _this long_  for a fitting. It was just a bloody dress!

“Well? What do you think? I think it looks fantastic,” Josephine quipped, the pleased tone of her voice bringing a small smile to Cullen’s face. She was always so proud of her work.

“… I sincerely hope you don’t truly think I’m going to wear this,” came Beau’s voice a moment later, a half laugh coloring her tone with rueful amusement.

“What!?” the ambassador exclaimed. “What’s the matter with it? It’s a beautiful dress, and it’s perfect for the ball!”

Cullen heard the movement of fabric as the Inquisitor turned toward the ambassador. “You honestly don’t see it do you? You’ve – ” She sighed and then: “Cullen, I know you’re there - it’s bad luck to linger in doorways, you know.”

He startled, heat rising to the back of his neck and the tops of his ears at being caught.  _How does she do that?_  He wondered, taking the next step.

When he crested the final step he found Josephine with her arms crossed, the look on her face like that of a small child that had been told they couldn’t have a second sweetie. The two seamstresses that had arrived with the dress, and had helped Josephine, bustled about the room, picking up extra lengths of fabric and sewing materials.

Then his eyes drifted over to the Inquisitor and, for a moment, Cullen forgot to breathe.

When she saw Cullen stop at the top of the stairs, Beau turned back to Josephine, pressing the palms of her hands together. “Josie, I love you dearly and I appreciate the effort you put in to pick out this dress, but I _can’t_  wear this to the Winter Palace. Find another dress.”

“But –“

“ _Find another dress._ ”

The ambassador dropped her arms with a huff, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles out of the skirt of her own dress. The movement told Cullen just how frustrated Josephine was becoming and her tone was tight with restraint when she replied, “Fine… we will find you another dress. If there are no pressing matters that require your immediate attention, we may be able to go to Val Royeaux in a few days.”

“Thank you, Josephine.”

“Of course, Inquisitor. I will take my leave.” With that, Josephine gathered the seamstresses and left.  

Beau turned back to the large mirror that had been moved to the center of the room, eyeing her reflection critically, and with clear displeasure. Cullen didn’t understand at all because she looked… like something out of a dream. 

She looked as though she were heading to a ball immediately rather than a few weeks from now. Her white blond hair had been delicately curled and pinned to the back of her head, bouncing gently against her back any time she shifted. The white material of the dress was loose and flowing, fluttering around her legs at the slightest breeze. A gold collar haltered the dress around her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, the fabric perfectly folding to her agile frame, and cinched around her waist with another decorative gold piece.

“If you stare at me much longer, Commander, I fear this dress might catch fire.”

Cullen’s eyes immediately darted up to meet Beau’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “I, uh… I hadn’t meant…” he cleared his throat, his hand raising to the back of his neck. “That dress… it looks… nice on you?”

Her reflection smiled gently at him. “Thank you. Unfortunately, I’ll not be wearing this dress,” Beau answered, her hands picking up the skirt at her hips and dropping it for emphasis.

“You don’t like the dress?” he wondered.

Now Beau turned to look at him over her shoulder, her ruby painted lips curled up on one side. “You don’t see it either, do you?”

Cullen didn’t reply, afraid of saying the wrong thing yet again. He had yet to understand just how exactly Beau managed to make him so tongue tied. And truthfully, the only thing Cullen saw at the moment was that she looked lovely in a dress.

Finally, after a long moment of silence Beau breathed a long, heavy sigh and told him, “They’ve decorated me up like bloody Andraste!”

He opened his mouth to immediately disagree, but now that she’d said it, the imagery seemed to have rooted itself deeply into his mind. And now that she’d said it, Cullen couldn’t help but make the comparison.

“Oh,” he answered, lamely.

“ _Oh,_ ” Beau echoed, sarcastically. “Now do you understand why I can’t wear this dress?”

She turned her back on him once again, reaching behind her in an attempt to reach the buttons that descended down the back of the dress. She managed unfasten the collar at the back of her neck, and a couple of the buttons sewn into the sheer back before the rest became quickly out of her reach. With a frustrated huff, Beau flung down her arms and tilted her head back, taking a handful of deep, steadying breaths.

When she tilted her head back up, the green eyes of her reflection once again found him. “I know this isn’t why you came up here, but would you mind?”

Cullen swallowed heavily. “I could… get, uh… Josephine?” he stammered, thumbing over his shoulder even as his feet carried him toward her.

Beau chuckled, “Trying to save my modesty, or yours, Commander?”

He didn’t answer, too close to her now to change his mind. Cullen watched her as she gathered her hair and swept it over the front of her shoulder, utterly uncertain why the movement made him feel short of breath. Beau held the neck of the dress to her chest, though Cullen was acutely aware that she was watching him intently in the mirror. 

_Maker, why is it so hot in here?_  He thought, his fingers clumsily flicking open the next button.

His fingers worked their way through the buttons, each one a little less difficult than the last, and Maker help him he tried not to admire the shift of her wiry muscles, the sensuous curve of her back, and the dip of her spine. He told himself that it was an accident when his fingertips brushed against her tan skin, that the raised texture of a scar had surprised him when his touch lingered longer than it should have.

Cullen finished sooner than he found he would have liked, and the dress sloped forward over Beau’s shoulders leaving her back entirely bared to him. But Cullen didn’t look up, his hands stayed hovering above where the last button had come undone at the small of her back, his heart beating from the bottom of his stomach.

Silence hung thick in the room, draped over them like a fog, charged now with something that Cullen couldn’t describe. There was tension set in the coil of Beau’s shoulders, and he could still feel the eyes of her reflection on him as though she were waiting for him to do something… but what?

He didn’t even think about it when he reached out toward Beau once again, grazing his knuckles up the ridges of her spine. And it was the catch of her breath that made Cullen look up, watching in awe as the anxiety melted from her shoulders, that her eyes had closed, her lips parted. He saw the gooseflesh ripple across her skin as a shiver worked its way through her.

And then, as fully and completely as if a bucket of ice cold water had been upturned over his head, Cullen came his senses. He jerked his hand away as though he’d been burned, backpedaling several steps away from Beau, breaking the electrified silence.

Cullen refused to look up as Beau whirled around to face him, undoubtedly confused at his abrupt change. He kept his eyes solely focused at her knees, tried to calm the hammering cadence of his pulse, hating that it felt as though his face was going to melt off his skull. What had he been thinking?

“F-forgive me, Inquisitor… I should… I should go,” he stuttered out, though quietly, afraid to raise his voice any louder lest she hear how it trembled.

Cullen fled before Beau could say anything.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find more information about Beau on my tumblr!


End file.
